Abbacchio's Daughter Scenarios

Christmas!!!

Wrapping presents was a difficult task, especially when you're trying to make as little noise as possible, it's 5 a.m., you're tired, and it's dark. Jolly, Christmas, wrapping, paper was being shaped onto the form of lipstick currently. Morning light was barely shining in through a crack in your curtains. 

Sliding on your shoes, you had Creed pick up the pile of mini presents. There was a Christmas tree in Giorno's large office that had colorfully wrapped presents scattered around underneath. Quiet as a mouse, you opened a secret drawer you found in the wall a while ago, and put the happy little gifts in it, hiding it from view.

You quietly snuck into the kitchen, only to find Narancia and Mista eating cereal. They both looked tired, and they both had white milk mustaches. You stood there, confused.

"W-what are you guys doing up so early?"

They just stared at you, and then they stared at each other. "W-well why are you up so early?" Narancia said, looking back at you. "Yeah, what he said." Mista agreed, looking at you, trying to act like a responsible twenty-eight year old. 

"No, you have to answer me first." You replied, with an expression on your face that told them you weren't going to take crap. Narancia looked down, laughing, and almost spilling cereal from his mouth. 

Mista held in a chuckle, trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn't wake anybody else up. "S-so...uhm...we may or may not have woken up, s-so we could...(outburst of laughter). Poor Mista was crying with laughter. 

"Mista told me about Y-your dad and Bucciarati...so..." Narancia stood up a chuckled quietly, trying to hold in his laughter. The smile on his face was huge. Narancia was adorable, even at twenty-seven. 

"WE HUNG A MISTLETOE ABOVE THE DOOR!" Narancia burst out with laughter. Mista shushed him and had to hold a hand up to his own mouth to keep them both quiet. They thought they were soooooo funny.

You silently walked into the kitchen grabbing a paper towel. Wiping away both of their milk mustaches with the same paper towel left them both disgusted. So immature...you thought, while throwing away the paper towel. 

You started to get out ingredients for cinnamon rolls. Mama Bruno had taught you how to make them last Christmas, and you wanted to surprise him. Mista and Narancia quickly caught on to what you were doing.

While you were rolling the dough into a cinnamon roll looking shapes, Mista kept poking at them, messing them up. Narancia sneezed on all of them. You had had it. You turned around, with an expression that told them "so...you have chosen death". An expression of fear washed the smiles off of their faces. Mista looked over at Narancia, and back at your face. Creed was now behind you, you were both doing your Jojo pose. 

"NIGERUNDAYO!!!" Mista yelled and ran away. 

You ended up jump kicking them both in the neck, and prying open their mouths, pouring expired milk into them. They spent the next hour throwing up in the bathroom. You took advantage of them being gone, and quickly put together the cinnamon rolls.

By the time they felt better, it was eight o'clock a.m.. Bucciarati turned the corner, still in Christmas pajamas. They were green, with cute little reindeers scattered across the baggy clothing. His hair was already done, and looked sleek as usual. His blue eyes were tired, but had a gleam in them.

He took a breath in, and the wonderful aroma of warm dough, cinnamon, and vanilla goodness flooded his nose. His eyes filled with surprise and realization washed over him. He knew what deliciousness awaited him.

"Yum." Bruno ran over to you. He looked at the cinnamon rolls, which were wrapped perfectly around, smooth icing perfectly drizzled across the soft, puffy, perfectly brown roll. "Did you make these?" He asked, figuring you did.